
Finding Emily movie review: call waiting
A smart, funny switched-up Cinderella for the social-media era with lots to say about modern dating and gender relations that is caustic, optimistic, and exasperated all at once. Instant comfort movie.

A smart, funny switched-up Cinderella for the social-media era with lots to say about modern dating and gender relations that is caustic, optimistic, and exasperated all at once. Instant comfort movie.

A blood-gushing, cheerfully horny phantasmagorical black comedy fueled by writer-director Jane Schoenbrun’s unique understanding of fandom and the intense relationships we can have with pop culture.

Grimly hilarious, this mashup of black comedy, social commentary, suspense, and horror is sharp and stinging, with a haunting gut punch of a finale… and it’s Yorgos Lanthimos’s most accessible film yet.

Brash, chaotic, full of bleak humor and bitter irony. With blockbuster vibes over an anarchic indie heart, it’s both earnest and winking. Outstanding in-flight entertainment for our societal freefall.

The quirks of this slightly fantastical black-comedy crime thriller are many, varied, and messily disjointed. But there’s a delicious oddness to its unpredictability and its spin on familiar tropes.

Hollywood has lost the ability to buckle swash. Guy Ritchie, shamelessly stealing from Indiana Jones, gives us a charmless treasure hunt that feels honed by corporate focus groups and cinematic SEO.

The dorm-room philosophy of the 25-year-old series is still pondering how wild it is that we all die, how fragile our meatbag bodies are. Now with gory dismemberments and squishy impalements in IMAX!

Pretty young people are sad about the end of everything, but there’s no urgency and little emotional authenticity to any of it. We’ve seen this before, pulled off with far more affecting feeling.

Replaces the novel’s rage with gentle comedy, biting its tongue and undercutting its protagonist. Still, mundane truths about women’s realities that rarely get public airings are on welcome display.

Sure, the humor may be bitter, the horror may be audacious, and the overriding genre may be “anti-romance.” But this hugely original, grimly delightful howl of feminine rage is actually kinda sweet.